


Sick Obsession

by VanillaBear



Category: Batman (Comics), Justice League, Superman (Comics)
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaBear/pseuds/VanillaBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hate has always been building inside of Bruce Wayne/Batman, a hate for what he knows he can not have, and a hate for not being able to control the alien that everyone has so eagerly accepted as the strongest hero on earth. Superman. <br/>Being raised by his own hate and ideals he decides it's time to take and break what he can not have. After all, he was Batman, and Batman does whatever the hell Batman wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: An Alternative Universe.   
> The idea was based off of a Role Play between both myself and another Author, so apologies in advance if some things were not made clear in the chapters on FF.net , I will be revising the later chapters to correct this problem.

Controlling,

Possessive,

Power,

When it comes down to it, everyone wants to be in control, to have power, and even to use that power over someone else to show dominance. It's in our DNA, a trait some believed to be passed down from generation to generation, though the urge to want to control can be increased or decreased depending on nurture and environment.

Bruce was never raised in a demanding house hold, when his parents were alive they did their best to show him that even though they lived richly, they were by far not snobs as were depicted in movies and television programs. He was taught that everyone was equal, from the richest of rich, to the poorest of poor. That everyone deserved to be treated with dignity and respect. But after their deaths it was as if all their teachings went out the window, and the cold slowly began to creep into his heart. Throughout his touring of the world Bruce learned what power truly was, learned how he could manipulate others with a flash of a smile, or a slide of the hand, and the taste of power was something he found hard to resist. It slowly became an itch that needed to be constantly scratched.

Foreign woman, street workers, news media, they were all easy to control, and he found himself more and more in their company, dazzling them with expensive wine and food, making many a woman give him their hearts, only to smash it to pieces after he was done with them. It was a cycle really, a different woman every week, an affair here and there, it made him feel in control, as if for once he could finally be the master of Gotham. And it only got worse as he dawned the cowl of Batman, becoming the very creature of the night that his parents were trying so hard to keep him from becoming. Though Batman watched over Gotham and protected it and it's morals, he also used the power to his advantage, scaring many a villain into submission at times, even going as far as forcefully coercing men in power to do as he wanted. He became the dark shadow that haunted Gotham, not the Joker, him. Each night stalking the streets for his 'prey' of some small time crooks, waiting to pounce and bring them in, only after he broke a few bones that is.

And slowly, as most heroes do, Bruce had finally joined the Justice League as one of the founders, something he denied on most occasions. But secretly it made him happy, happy to know that he held the strings on most of the world's strongest men and women. That he could send them to their deaths or send them to victory in battle by strategizing their fate. He held files on each of them, all containing their identities, weaknesses, powers, and how to eliminate them if they ever crossed him or deemed too big a threat to the rest of the world.

Most of the members from the League trusted him full heartedly, never once questioning his motive, barely complaining when they lost a comrade or was hurt. If Batman wanted something bad enough he got it. Many members were seduced by his dark charm; shockingly a few of them were the straightest males you could ever find. Flash, Green Lantern Kyle, and Green Arrow to name a few. He had all the women wrapped around his fingers, and the males all wanted to be in his good graces. But there was one member that irritated- no, irritation was minor in what he felt, this one member truly pissed him off, pushing him to the brink of wanting nothing more than to pound him into submission. He tried all his tricks, going as far as to being 'nice' to him. But for some reason that was unknown to him, the Man of Steel did not take to any of his advances, nor did his threats cause him to cower in fears like it did to Wild Cat or Superboy.

Just the thought of his smiling face made Bruce mad. This alien was living the good life while he was trying to play god to fill the void that was in his life, one he knew he could never truly fill. It wasn't fair, he shouldn't have even been brought to this planet yet there he sat, up by Wonder Woman and Flash and the rest of them, smiling down at the cameras while he spoke to the United Nations. Batman did his best to look uncaring as the alien to his right spoke cheerfully about the situation dispersing over the left hemisphere. But underneath the table, and hidden by his back cape he was forming a tight fist. He wanted nothing more than to throw Superman over the table and force him to submit both physically and mentally, to hear him scream out that he was Lord and Master over his pathetic body. Though Bruce couldn't deny that for an alien, he did have a very nice physique, his muscles rippling, his skin as smooth and clear as child's, and his eyes were as blue as the heavenly skies above.

That more than anything made him want to destroy him, no one should be that pure. He watched in disgust as Superman stood up, bowing politely to the Minister of Japan before turning off the camera feed, turning around to give the Founders a bright sickening smile, announcing their job well done before closing the meeting.

"Superman, wait up." Batman barely spoke in the presence of the others, his ability to seduce and manipulate worked better when he was doing it one on one, but he was fed up with waiting, he was going to humiliate the Man of Steel and show him that he wasn't any better than the scum found on his boot.

" Batman, hello." Superman's eyes closed slightly as he smiled at him, warmth radiating from his solar charged body. "What can I do for you?"

"Watch deck. Now." Batman didn't wait for a reply, leaving the room before anyone could question on why he needed to speak with the Man of Steel. He smirked to himself as he pulled out a small bat shaped tracker from his belt, he was going to once and for all find out who the man was behind the cape, and when he did, he was going to humiliate him till he begged to be locked away in the cave. Which he would allow, but not until he made him realize that he was something that should be, and could be destroyed. He could barely hold back a smirk that flickered on his lips, thinking about all the ways he could humiliate him. There was one idea he had kicking around for a while and he would be damned if he didn't get the chance to do it.

"What did you need to talk about?" Superman stood before him, cape wrapped around his shoulders, hiding his 'S', the accursed spit curl in the middle of his forehead once again.

"First off, cut that curl of yours, it makes you look like a boy scout." He all but mocked him, walking over to him, standing to full height, as he placed his shoulders back. "Secondly I want to know what the hell you think you are doing talking to the United Nations like that. You are not a citizen of the United States; you are an alien, technically illegal immigrant. So stop acting like you are one of us." His lips threatened to twitch up in a smirk when he saw the look of confused pain run through Superman's eyes, though quickly being replaced with his usual carefree happiness.

"Batman, I am a citizen as much as anyone else, I protect the planet and all who inhabit it. Is being born here such a big deal?" He looked upon the man dressed in black, a shiver running down as the white eyes of his cowl slitted. "Tell me Batman, why can't you and I just work together and get along? Is it that hard to be at least somewhat approachable? You talk to everyone else but when it comes to Martian Man Hunter and I, you treat us like the plague."

Batman shook his head, already annoyed that this creature was trying to talk him into thinking they were equals. They were not equals, and eventually he would make him see that. But until then he had to play 'nice', and god was he going to take it out on him later. "You are right Superman; I have been acting a bit harsh." He lied smoothly, his voice like velvet. "It's not fair that I treat you differently than the rest of us humans." He clapped his hand on the others shoulder, slipping the tracker onto his neck, knowing the nano-nites will be absorbed into his skin in the matter of seconds.

Superman blinked in shock, his pupils wide as he felt the other touch him for the first time. "Thank you…"

"No, thank you." Batman sneered, pushing past him, all but vanishing from the room by the time Superman turned around to look at him. A shiver ran down the Man of Steels spine as he saw the ends of his cape disappear, something about the way he spoke made him nervous. Though perhaps ignorance is bliss, for if he did know what Bruce had in store for him he would be half way across the galaxy with no plans on returning.


	2. Chapter 2

After Bruce left the Man of Steel on the watch deck he felt his aggravation returned. His eyes peered out from his eye slits and easily found someone who could 'help' him for the moment. Sitting propped up in his usual spot by the bay window was Flash, or as Batman dubbed him, the 'walking vibrator.' He could tell from the way his shoulders were slumped and the drool stain on his chin, he was asleep. That made him smirk harder, it would be easier to seduce him when he was just waking up.

"Flash, wake up." He stood before the speedster, his arms crossed in impatience as blue eyes slowly opened. A sleepy groan escaping him.

"Bats…what's up? I was dreaming about a never ending pizza bar." He chuckled, his tongue darting between his lips to lick the dried drool from his chin. His heart skipped a beat as he looked upon the other, Batman's lips holding his famous playboy smirk, and his hip jutted out, presenting Flash with a clear view of his straining crotch. "You want to play again huh?"

No matter how many times Flash told himself that it was just a 'little game' or just 'playing around', he knew it was a lie. It was just something he told himself to make him feel better, it wasn't a game, it was just Batman once again showing how easily he could destroy him if he ever pushed him over the edge of annoyance. Without a word he got off the chair, getting onto his red spandex clad knees, kneeling before his crotch. He reached for his belt but was cut off by a hard whack to the knuckles by the dull edge of a batarang.

The smirk widened on Batman's lips as Flash brought his hand to his mouth, trying to hold back a cry of pain. "How about you redo that Flash, and this time pay attention."

Flash nodded quickly, reaching up once more, this time tugging down on the black fabric of his outerwear rather than touching Batman's beloved belt. "Yes sir." He tugged down the specially designed fabric, taking out his already half hardened cock that seemed to almost twitch in impatience. Flash licked his lips as he brought his mouth closer, closing his eyes. For a moment he thought about being back asleep, curled up perhaps by Arrow or Lantern after a particularly rough threesome night of with the Dark Knight. The fucking was amazing, even if he ended up with new cuts and bruises, but the cuddling after, being pressed against a warm chest 'lovingly' made his toes curl. But reality slowly tugged him back as he felt the batarang hit the back of his neck.

Looking up at the white eyes he opened his mouth, licking the precum slick head, taking in half of his length before receiving another blow. Flash couldn't help but wince, closing his mouth around the tip, bobbing head up and down slowly, a head ache already forming. He could practically feel Batman's glare on him, causing his stomach to twist as he sucked silently, allowing his hand to rest on his gray clad thighs.

"Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic." The cruel chuckle that escaped Batman's lips ran chills up Flash's spine. "You're the world's fastest man alive yet here you are on your knees like a dog. Perhaps you really aren't a hero; perhaps you are just still a little boy trying to be all grown up, yet failing so utterly miserably. You must suck anyone who asks, don't you? More of a filthy slut then a 'respected' hero."

Batman may have been slower and weaker than some members of the League, but the one ability he possessed that few required was the perfect use of the English language. No matter what the situation, he could cut anyone down, make even the happiest of people cry. His tongue was as sharp as a sword, and he was quite proudly aware of just how powerful he was in that aspect.

If anyone else had spoken those words Flash wouldn't have hesitated in breaking their nose, but when he rolled his eyes up to look at him all he could do was mentally coax himself to stay quiet and to keep sucking. And after a moment he found himself bobbing in rhythm with his own heartbeat, moving his tongue at hyper speed to cause gentle vibrations. From the groan above him he could tell that Batman was enjoying this immensely, after all, it was a display of power, and the one thing he came to learn about his mysterious friend was that he craved power more than a meth addict craved their kick. Slowly he felt his mask being removed, a rough black gloved hand running through his ginger locks. The fingers scratched against his scalp, tugging a hand full of hair out. He vibrated his tongue harder in an attempt to appease him, but before he could even vibrate his tongue at top speed he felt the other pull away, just in time to humiliate him more by ejaculating white sticky strands on the red heads face.

"Clean me off, and then clean yourself, you look disgusting." Batman sneered, pushing his cum covered tip into his mouth, making him clean it off before pulling away once more, fixing the lower part of his costume.

"Well it's not like it's my fau-" Flash had only averted his eyes for a second, but when he looked up once more the Dark Knight was gone, not a trace or sound could be found, leaving the other on his knees with cum dripping down his face just as Wonder Woman and Green Lantern rounded the corner, causing Flash to run quickly away before they could even catch sight of his face.

"Was that Wally?" Wonder Woman questioned, turning to Green Lantern John who only shrugged, the same question on his mind.

+++Gotham City: Wayne Manor+++

Alfred Pennyworth, the only employed butler at the Wayne family Manor was, and to this day, considered insane. He was the only hired help member to remain with Bruce Wayne after his parents death. He stood by the young ward when all else left him, mostly because he knew deep down that the wickedness Bruce kept about him was just to cover up the pain and hurt he felt every waking moment of every single day. And at first Bruce tried to push him away, breaking priceless artifacts and playing nasty tricks on the aging butler, but after a while the anger slowly bubbled down, being held under the surface by Bruce's cold brood silence.

Alfred had tried with all his might to get new helpers, but after spending one hour alone with Mr. Wayne most had left, telling the Butler that it 'just wouldn't work out', and the few that were hired left after only a few weeks, no longer able to deal with Bruce's lying and secrets. And even though Alfred had thoughts of quieting at times, he knew that if he left the Manor that he had kept tidy for the past thirty years would surely fall to shambles, and Master Wayne would never be seen from again.

"ALFRED! Come here!" Even from all the way upstairs Alfred could hear Bruce from down in the Bat cave, knowing that whatever had the millionaire yelling for him must have been urgent. Placing down the last dish into the strainer Alfred dried off his hands, heading to the old grandfather clock in the Master Work room. Pulling softly on the handle the door opened up, exposing dimly lit stairs.

"You bellowed?" He asked calmly, arriving silently behind him, his eyes instantly being attracted to the map of the U.S that filled up all seven monitors.

"I found him." Bruce finally announced, pointing to the East Coast, where a small red dot was blinking. "I finally found him. He lives in Metropolis."

"Found whom Master Wayne?"

"Superman. Or should I say, Clark Jerome Kent? He lives in Metropolis, and I'm going to go hunt him down like filthy dog that he is." His eyes never leaving the screen.


	3. Chapter 3

Sunset was Clark Kent's ultimate favorite time of day. He felt it was a beautiful, peaceful time when the hours of the day turn slowly to blessed night. The magical time of day when the skies light up with bright vibrant colors ranging from the brightest of pinks and reds to the darkest of blues and purples. Each and every evening Clark would go up onto the Daily Planets roof to watch as the sun slowly sunk down under the sky scraper horizon. On top of the Golden Globe he would sit, his perfect skin practically glowing as his cells absorbed as much of the dying sun light as they possibly could.

The sun set was even more spectacular this evening then he could ever imagine, the colors a mixture of dark violent reds with a soft touch of violet at the edges. He sighed dreamily as he felt the sun light kiss his skin, his right hand running through his midnight hair as he removed his glasses. Clark moved back, his back resting on the globe as he continued to watch the skies ever changing color, the blue polyester suit wrinkling slightly underneath his weight. An angelic smile was plastered on his lips as he rested the back of his head against his bent arms, closing his eyes for a moment, not feeling an ounce of worry or panic.

Though if he knew that someone was on the other roof top watching him, then he probably would have been a bit concern. But when Batman didn't want to be seen, he wasn't seen. And at that particular moment as he hid up on the rafters of a building that was being reconstructed, he did not want to be seen. Not until he was closer and the time was right. Batman was crouched on the closest beam towards the Daily Planet, not even one football yard away. He hand made sure to observe Clark Kent all day, learning his mannerisms, and his habits. The fact that Clark was able to easily blend into crowds and was somewhat popular at work made him clench his jaw in fury. If Clark was Superman- no, there was no if, Clark Kent was Superman, and that meant that by being undercover as a reporter he could be finding out weaknesses of the human race, lulling the world into a false security, just waiting till the day he would strike. And if anyone was going to destroy the world it would be him. Why else would an alien like him be here on earth?

Though the sight of Clark Kent stretched out on top of the Golden Globe was almost…pleasant… His white under shirt showed off his clearly defined abs, chest heaving softly as he breathed. Though Bruce would have liked it better if he was heaving, desperate for breathe and naked.

Bruce watched him closely as he sat up after a good hour or two, slowly getting off the globe. He placed the glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and for the first time took notice that he wasn't alone. His head turned left and right, his eyes narrowing behind his glassless glasses. His whole body seemed to tense up, his shoulders moving back as he stood at his full height. He tilted his head to the left, listening carefully in case of sirens, but he heard none. Only heart beats.

He thought about it for a moment, but shook his head; it must have been from someone down in the office working late, a janitor perhaps. But still, it was too close for comfort, almost as if someone was standing right behind him. He spun on his heel just in case, and to his non surprise there was no one there. Just his shadow from the moon light. Clark scratched his head softly, his bottom lip jutting out as he mentally slapped himself for being paranoid. He was Superman for Pete's sake, what would harm him? A pigeon? A rat?

He chuckled softly to himself, walking over to the edge of the rooftop, looking out over the city of lights, his heart beating faster as he thought about it. This was his city, the people in this city were his responsibility, it gave him a sense of purpose, a meaning, and nothing made him happier than being there hero. Especially to Lois and Jimmy, they were the only people he ever truly trusted beside Ma and Pa, and perhaps Batman. He didn't spend enough time with the vigilante, but he knew somewhere deep down inside, he was a good person right?

After all Ma and Pa Kent taught him from the moment he was found in that corn field in Kansas that everyone was equal, that everyone was special in their own way, and that he was a loved and cherished member of Earth. Even though a handful of humans around the world considered him to be an 'alien intruder', Earth was his home, the only home he truly knew. Krypton was destroyed when he was just a mere babe, he must not have been even a year old. In a vain hope that the house of El would live on, he was sent away on an escape rocket, crash landing to earth where he would eventually be found by two poor farmers who prayed for a baby of their own, but could not conceive. Yes, in many ways Clark Kent (Kal-El) was a blessing in disguise.

"It's such a pretty night, and for once no crime." Clark mused to himself, looking down at the citizens who were walking the streets below, most likely heading home or going to their night shifts. A dream like smile appeared on his face as he closed his eyes, a soft breeze kissing his cheeks. For a moment he let his guard down, the weight of the world left his shoulders and he could finally breath without feeling the 'knife of worry' being stabbed into his stomach.

"Too bad you won't be enjoying it." The voice was so closed, barely above a breathy whisper, but a voice none the less. A piercing pain ran through his neck and spine as he tried to turn around, a cry of pain escaping him. A black gloved hand wrapped around his throat, causing his head to stay in place as the pain in his spine intensified, he could feel a needle from a syringe slowly sink deeper into his neck, a hot liquid running down his throat. His head felt heavy, his knees buckling. A foreign arm wrapped around his mid-section, pulling him against the person chest. He couldn't see who it was, but judging from the broad chest and the large hand that held his throat, it was a man. It would have been easier if he recognized the voice, but whoever it was it was someone he was fairly sure he didn't know.

"Wh-Who?" The needle was jerked out of his neck, causing a gasp of pain to escape him. The hand that was wrapped around his throat slowly loosened its hold, sliding up to cover his nose and mouth. His heart began to pound, sweat accumulating and dripping down his forehead, he couldn't move. Slowly his legs came out from under him as the man behind him dragged him back from the ledge, dropping the syringe in the process. Quickly he looked down; spotting a greenish oil surround the shattered glass, his instinct told him it was some form of liquid kryptonite.

"Silence. Count to ten, it'll all be over soon." The voice was husky, about two decimals lower than what most male humans was comfortable speaking at. He tried to dig his heels into the ground, trying desperately to slow the man down in his dragging but soon his eye lids began to droop and his mind wandered, leaving his body nothing more than a dead weight. "Fucking heavy." Batman growled as he threw Clarks body over the side of the building into a deserted alley, knowing the impact would do little more than just scratch him up. He reached into his utility belt, shooting a grappling hook at the top of the nearest building. He gave it a tug to make sure it caught before swinging down, landing just inches away from where Superman's body lay, face down. He tapped the button that rested snuggly on his left hip compartment, the Bat mobile slowly driving over to him from the shadows. The top slowly rose and slid off, revealing two seats and a pile of rope. Taking the roped he tied one end around the back bumper, the other tightly around Superman's wrists.

"Alfred." He waited for the butler to speak as he spoke into his cowls two way communicator.

"Yes Master Wayne?"

He jumped into the driver's side, the chrome closing. With a shriek of wheels and the sound of a body dragging he replied. "Prepare the 'Sanctuary'. I've got him."


End file.
